


Bastard Son Of A Hundred Maniacs (Nightmare Trilogy - Part 1)

by krueger84



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984), A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master (1988)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-02 15:57:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4065868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krueger84/pseuds/krueger84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 1 of the Nightmare Trilogy. This story will run for a while and focus on the life of Fred Krueger and family before the incidents in the movies. Set in the present day, rather than the 80's. Rated T for language, adult themes, and some sexy stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue -Westin Hills

Prologue:

Sometimes I can remember it as if I were there. The dark, the smell, the screams, the laughter. A hundred maniacs ruining my mother in a thousand ways. I have nightmares about it. The most realistic dreadful dreams. But no matter how real it feels when I sleep, the story really comes to life through the words of my mother, Amanda.

Westin Hills Mental Clinic, Christmas Eve, 1986

I remember drawing the short straw and having to lock up over the Christmas break for the 3rd time in a row. It was Justine's turn but, well, let's just say BJ's get you everywhere. I was given a walkie talkie, an air rifle and a bottle of gin.

Just after lunch, Joe from security called my walkie talkie, saying that there was an incident in "the pit". One of the patients had fashioned a shiv and during an altercation, sliced his jugular. "Peeled like a grape" was how Joe put it. Of course, I had to go and read him his last rites, so he could pass over and be judged by the Lord.

Usually they are taken to the infirmary in their last hours, and in extreme cases to the yard in an isolated area where the funerals are also sometimes held. So you can imagine my confusion when I was summoned to the pit to do the last rites.

I was hesitant, and rightly so. There were no fewer than 8 dozen mentally ill people all in the one cell.

Now when I asked why they were all kept in the same cell, I was always told the same thing.

It was a different time Freddy. There were no guidelines, no inspections from the state, no new-age treatments. The only treatment present was "shove 'em in a hole and let them entertain themselves". And that's what they did. With the most violent, vile, evil freaks in the whole place.

I got to the locked door of the pit and peered inside. There was an enclosed steel walkway 30 feet above the floor. Looking directly down I could see nothing, but that was normal. The pit was so poorly lit, I don't think I could see an inch in front of my nose unless I was an inhabitant, or unless there was movement. And there was no movement. It was eerily still down there, considering someone had just offed themselves.

I called Joe on my walkie. "Yeah, Red. It's weird in here. I'm on the far side of the walkway, looking for the body." He waved a hand, and it brought my gaze back up to the walkway. The walkie talkie crackled again.

"OK, I'm gonna head down. Have you got the air rifle?"

I nodded, wide eyed, getting more and more nervous by the second.

"Come in and cover me. I'll give you my flashlight."

My legs filled with lead at the very thought of entering that hell chamber.

"Fuck you Justine", I whispered under my breath. I would've given 10 BJ's to avoid doing this.

"Huh", Joe's voice crackled over again.

"Oh, nothing, I, um, isn't there anyone else Joe? Emergency security or a warden?" I pleaded.

"Sorry, babe. It's just us and these nutjobs today."

I turned on the spot. I could've left. I could've run. But then, my precious baby, I couldn't have had you.

At this, I usually smile. But it's more of an anticipatory smile. 'Cause I know what's coming.

"Amanda! Are you coming in or not?!" Joe pushed.

"Fine!" I yelled. "Sorry, fine, I'm coming now."

I opened the heavy steel door and slowly placed a foot on the walkway. It shook slightly as I pivoted and closed the door. I took a deep breath, picked up the rifle and turned back to Joe.

"Boo!" The prick. He'd sneaked up behind me and scared the living shit out of me.

I swung the light rifle and connected with his temple.

"Bitch! What'd you do that for?" He said, smiling playfully and offering me the flashlight.

"You're a real jerk-off sometimes Joe." I couldn't help but smile back. He was very cute. As I gripped the shaft of the flashlight I felt his hand cover mine. I looked up at him and saw a very different Joe. A colder Joe.

"I'm sorry Red, it's, uh. It's you or me" He babbled. Puzzled, I turned back towards the door to face Junior. Junior was a big boy. Black as coal. Wide as a fridge. 3 teeth framed by thick purple lips. He showed me those teeth. I backed towards Joe. That was a mistake. Joe swung his hands over my head and pulled me close, his flashlight against my throat. Junior closed in, panting, his breath the heaviest stench I've ever known. I tried to kick out of Joe's hold, delivering one foot to Junior's stomach. He staggered and then continued towards me. I reached my hands behind my head and tried grabbing at Joe's hair. He yelled and pushed me to the floor. I was helped up by Junior who looked me up and down, licking his lips.

"How do you like it, bitch?" Joe sneered as he grabbed my ponytail.

Junior grabbed my feet and lifted me from the floor. Joe held me from the other side by my hair. They swung me back and forth. I tried grabbing at them, but only managed to scratch Joe's face. With one final swing I cleared the side rails and fell to the pit beneath. My floor was cushioned by hands. Lots of greasy hot hands.

Joe looked over the side. He had a swig of the gin I was given and spat it at me.

"Merry Christmas boys." He said, the last thing I remember of that day.

A/N: There it is. A very sweet origin story. I will try to keep this at a T level. With that in mind I'll have to skim over the nitty gritties and not go into what would be a hellish orgy rape scene. Please keep that in mind if/when you review


	2. Custodian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Present day, Fred's story begins

Chapter 2 – Custodian

September 2010, Canton, OH

"Damnit Fred. How are we going to explain this?"

"I, I don't know boss. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to, I didn't."

Principal Jim Steyne pivoted his swivel chair back and forth, hands clasped together, thumbs on his lips and index fingers pointing at the pock-marked gyprock ceiling.

Considering his position and his tenure, he had a shitty tiny dive of an office. The pale yellow wallpaper peeled at the joins and there was an ever-present faint smell of sour cream, the source of which could never be identified. Needless to say, whenever there was an issue, and it was discussed in Steyne's office, it never ended well.

"I mean, really? You called our star quarterback that? I can't even comprehend why! Or what on Earth I'm going to do with you!"

Fred didn't have an explanation. A rebuttal to curb Steyne's exasperation. His nerves were getting the best of him and he tapped his fingers on the coffee-stained desk in front of him, taking a second to gaze at his shoes.

"I don't know boss. What do you think we should do about this? I can apologise to the parents, maybe?"

"What the fuck are you going to say? Oh, hi Mr Daly. Just wanted to take a sec and apologise for calling your gifted son a retarded bitch whore. Retard sure can throw a ball though, right? Jesus Fred, you're not even a teacher, you're just the help. Your interaction with anyone; students, faculty, other custodians, should all be kept to silence."

Fred's tapping fingers grew louder and faster in time with his rising frustration. Eventually he hit the edge of the desk, swore to himself and brought his eyes back up to Steyne. He absentmindedly picked up a letter opener and wistfully scratched the tabletop with it whilst he held Steyne's gaze, his mouth curling to the left in a wicked smirk.

"Well, Jimbo, there's the problem. I called our bright quarterback a retard, and his slut girlfriend a bitch whore. I'm no math teacher, but I can count, and that makes two apologies."

Steyne rose from his chair, eyes bulging and double chin flapping, his face getting redder with every word. "You son of a bitch", he grunted. "Get the fuck out of my office. Pack your things. You'll never work in this town again!"

Freddy rose in an instant, raising the letter opener and gripping Steyne's tie. Despite the resistance, he was able to pull Steyne easily towards the blade, it's tip kissing his eyelashes.

"You're a pig, Steyne. Absolute swine. You almost make me want to be a Jew."

Fred drove the letter opener into the table top and thrusted Steyne back to his seat, throat-first.

"I'll see myself out."

Later that night, Fred returned home to his wife, Loretta. His dinner was cold, but he didn't mind. He told Loretta and Katherine to pack their bags, it was time to leave. Loretta knew the drill, he'd pissed off another principal, and hadn't handled the exit interview very professionally. She hurried off to start packing clothes and toiletries. This was all she had to pack as their other belongings had remained packed in storage for the last 3 months. She'd decided not to unpack things after the third move, and by then she'd become well acquainted with a storage group, they even handled the moves for her now.

Katherine crossed her arms and pouted.

Fred looked at her undecidedly. Should he scold her as usually would, or just tousle her hair and point her to her room?

Instead he knelt down and addressed her kindly. "Why the long face, sweetie?"

"You said we wouldn't have to leave again. I'm not going. This is my home!" She said in a heavily sulky tone.

He smiled. It was time.

"Baby girl, we're not home. But we're going home. To the first home I'd ever known."

He grabbed a map from his back pocket and folded it out, pointing to their next destination.

Katherine squinted, phonetically reading it in her head.

"Springwood? What's so good about Spring…"

She was cut off by the sound of broken glass from the bathroom. Loretta emerged from the bathroom holding the shards in a dustpan.

"So, we're going back? After everything that happened? You promised me Fred. YOU PROMISED ME WE'D NEVER GO BACK TO THAT HELLHOLE."

"DO NOT EVER USE THAT TONE WITH ME, YOU STUPID BITCH. IF YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR YOU YOU'LL GET BACK IN THERE AND KEEP PACKING!" He spat back venomously.

He turned back to Katherine who was fighting back tears.

"Oh baby, no no. It's ok, we're not fighting, we're just preparing for a makeup session later on. Now why don't you go pack up your teddies and your dresses and such. And be quick about it, you don't want the belt tonight darling."

Katherine nodded and scampered off to pack her things.

Freddy searched for Loretta then. Yes honey, we are going to make up, after I punish her for her insolence. Go pack your things while I beat her senseless.

He went from room to room with no sign. He made it to the back yard when he heard the engine of their Ford truck struggle to start out front on the street. He swore under his breath and ran through the house to catch Loretta before she drove off.

Loretta kept pumping the gas as she tried in vain to start the truck. Tears were streaming down her face and her breaths were harsh from the hyperventilation she was experiencing. Defeated, she stopped for a second and sunk her head into the steering wheel. She caught her breath and tried one more time to start the car. Chug chug chug, vrrr, vrrrrrmmmm.

"Yes, fucking yes!" She shouted in delight.

As she reached for the gearstick a dirty hand grabbed at her shirt pulling her out of the window.

"You're coming inside honey." Freddy said calmly. His eyes were darting left and right, paranoid that his neighbours were witnessing the scene they were making.

Once inside, he dragged her into their room by her hair and slammed the door shut, remarking "You're lucky I stopped off to fuck that Steyne brat on the way home. Otherwise I'd be in a foul mood."

A/N: Hoping I'm painting an accurate portrait of the psycho he will become. My psycho lol. Things are about to get intense. Thanks for reading, please review, I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	3. Return to Springwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Kruegers return to Springwood, much to Loretta's dismay.

A/N: This is a bit of a slow burner. I really want to build up this world, which is mostly correct, but will skew into the AU the further it goes. Mostly I want people to pick their favourites before I start messing with them ;)

Chapter 3 – Return to Springwood

The truck was a veritable mixed bag of emotions as it rolled past the county line, the ominous "Welcome to Springwood" sign standing erect on the roadside.

For Fred it was a beacon, a welcome home sign, giant arms embracing him and showing him his new playland. For Katherine, it was hope, and history. She'd heard a lot about this place, good and bad. But mostly, for her, it was a new beginning. Maybe Dad would treat her and Mom a bit nicer. Maybe she could forge a new relationship with her grandmother. For Loretta, it was a tower, representing nothing but pain. Like the sign, this town loomed over her. Again, a lot of history, but no good times. This time, she'll wait till the moment is right and escape this Hell.

Fred had gotten in touch with some old colleagues and they had organised a small house for him on the outskirts in the southern side of Springwood. Nice and quiet, with a lot of yardspace and a massive basement. As they rolled into the driveway, a chill ran down Loretta's spine. This is the place. This is where she would die. It had taken a suicide attempt to convince Fred to leave the first time. She couldn't get away with that again. He would make sure.

Fred checked his phone for directions to where the keys were kept, taking the opportunity to check the surroundings. Nope, no neighbours in sight. He smiled cruelly.

"Look, baby. You can have this room. Right in the middle of the house. Nice and safe, boogeymen will have to get past your old man to wake you up, darling." Fred said, smiling.

Katherine beamed at him. "Where's yours and Mommy's room, Daddy?"

"Oh, right behind yours. See." Fred directed his daughter to his room which was considerably larger, with only one window that went to his daughters room. Katherine found this oddly comforting.

Loretta shuddered when she entered the room. All she could see was an absence of escape. And a portal for her daughter to witness the unspeakable. Loretta decided to suck it up and try her best not to incur Fred's wrath. Maybe Fred might let me take on some work. Loosen the purse strings a little, she hoped.

Fred's old colleagues had already sorted out his new role at Springwood Heights Middle School and he was welcomed back with open arms. Upon picking up his work gear he decided to visit his mother.

Amanda Krueger, long since retired from Westin Hills, was living out her days in a facility on the west side of Springwood. She was old beyond her days, the trauma of that day plaguing her thoughts, dreams and behaviour on a daily basis. Most days she would stare out of her bedroom window at the blue-green grass outside, and the sun. She chose to be catatonic most of the time, only breaking upon request from Dr Gordon, who showed genuine concern for her wellbeing, not just checking her off the daily list.

Today, she was staring out her window. Today, she was nervous.

She'd received a call from her son. A very short call. So short, in fact, that she wondered if it were a dream. A new dream.

I'm coming, and we're leaving.

It was very concise and not at all ambiguous, and maybe that's where the menace was.

I'm coming…

Was he mad at her?

And we're leaving.

Where were they going? Were they leaving town? Had he finally snapped? Had she finally snapped? Maybe she had, it was getting late and there was no sign of him. Visiting hours were over. Of course, they would make exceptions for her. But they couldn't do anything, they couldn't go anywhere.

She ate most of her dinner and finished her meds, pausing to look out the window one more time before she laid down. The blue-green grass was black and white under the harsh lights outside. She couldn't make out anything. She decided to leave it be, no need causing a fuss with the orderlies. It must've been a dream.

"It must've been a dream", she spoke softly, to herself mostly. And to the empty room.

She kept repeating it, softer and softer, as she curled into a foetal position and floated to sleep.

It must've been a dream, it must've been a dream.

"Hey mom."


End file.
